


Unconditional

by Anonymous



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pedophilia, discussion of sexuality, no child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Charles comes clean about a secret he thought he would take to his grave.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14
Collections: Anonymous





	Unconditional

**Author's Note:**

> Please read this with an open mind.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?” It took a moment for Pierre’s words to process and form a coherent sentence in Charles’ brain. “Oh. Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

Charles felt the bed dip as Pierre sat next to him, but he didn’t dare to look his way. This was supposed to be a fun trip to celebrate Charles’ eighteenth birthday and the third anniversary of their relationship, a vacation to just forget about everything and enjoy their time together. Instead, Charles hadn’t been able to take his mind off of things – or, rather, one thing specifically. His silence answered Pierre’s question. 

“Come on, Charles.” Pierre scooted closer. Their thighs brushed. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I-” Charles paused to take in the strange feeling rising in his chest. He couldn’t freak out, not on their special holiday with its expenses mostly taken care of by Pierre. “I really can’t. Not about this.”

“Relationships are all about trust, right? You can tell me, I promise,” Pierre said, his voice gentle and kind. He reached for Charles’ hand.

“I can’t.” Charles pushed himself up from the bed. He could already imagine the pure disgust that would fill Pierre’s voice if he were to open up about what was bothering him. “Please, just drop it.”

“Alright.” Pierre didn’t sound satisfied with that answer. “It’s getting late and I’m hungry. Let’s get some food at the restaurant.”

Despite the weight of Pierre’s distrust on his shoulders, Charles felt relieved. Crisis averted. 

Charles didn’t think things could get worse, not after he’d only narrowly evaded having to talk to Pierre about his… issues. And of course, that meant things did get worse. He felt sick, unable to even look at his food, thoughts racing through his head so fast none of them made any sense to him. His gaze was fixed on a point just to the right of Pierre’s head and he couldn’t avert it, not even when his heartrate started picking up and anxiety twisted painfully in his gut. Pierre’s voice was far away, calling his name over and over again, but Charles couldn’t find his voice to answer him. Because he couldn’t take his eyes off this boy. This child. He couldn’t be any older than ten, his mum was with him, and yet Charles couldn’t stop looking.

“Charles!” 

Pierre reached for his hand and Charles flinched, his chair scraping against the tiles so loudly some of the other guests turned to look at them. The boy was staring at him, his fork hovering in the air hallway between his plate and his mouth. He couldn’t do this. Not here, not right now. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps and the world tilted as he stood up.

“Wait!” Pierre yelled, but Charles was already on his way to the lobby, the sound of Pierre hastily apologising to the restaurant staff fading in the distance. 

He didn’t hesitate for a moment when he reached the elevators, narrowly sliding through the gap of the two metal doors. His hand found the _close doors_ button and he smashed it as hard as he could, his heart pounding against his chest as he watched Pierre try to make a run for it. The doors closed right before Pierre could stick out his hand to activate the sensors, and Charles prayed the next elevator would take ages to show up. His legs were shaking and he held onto the rail as he tried to catch his breath. There was nothing more embarrassing than running from your boyfriend on your vacation together, let alone sprinting through a hotel to get away from him. But he didn’t have any other choice. Pierre couldn’t find out about his problems, about the sick things going on in his mind. Nobody could. When he died, this secret would die with him. 

Pierre was nowhere to be seen when Charles stepped out of the elevator, but he made a run for their hotel room nonetheless. He palmed his pockets with trembling hands, finding them empty apart from some loose change. Pierre had their key card. The realisation settled in his stomach, cold and nauseating, and his world crumbled. Everything that had been building up inside him since the start of their vacation came down all at once, knocking him to the floor. He sat down with his back against the locked door and buried his head in his hands. It was over. Pierre would be here soon and he’d demand to know everything and Charles would have to tell him. 

Charles didn’t look up at Pierre when he arrived, not even when he opened the door and pulled Charles upright by his arm, his hand resting between Charles’ shoulder blades as he guided him into the room. 

“Go splash some water on your face if you need. I’ll just stay here,” Pierre said, and the concern in his voice only made Charles feel worse. He didn’t deserve this. 

When Charles returned from the bathroom, Pierre was sitting on the edge of the bed, a cup of water in his hands. There was no way out of this, especially not after what had just happened, so Charles sat down next to Pierre and prepared for the worst. 

“You have to tell me what’s going on, okay?”

Charles nodded, inhaling shakily. “But please don’t say anything until I finish.”

Pierre nodded. “Okay, I won’t. Go ahead.”

“I’m a-” A monster. A paedophile. Charles couldn’t get the word past his lips, as if confessing to it would seal his fate. He remembered what it was like being in school, growing up, getting into middle school but still finding the same seven or eight-year-old boys cute; then starting puberty and seeing his friends swoon over large breasts and noticeably adult bodies, while he only started to struggle more. 

“I’m attracted to kids,” he managed eventually, the world turning into a blur as tears welled up in his eyes. Words spilled from his mouth in such quick succession he could barely make sense of them. “I keep getting older but the ages I’m attracted to stay the same and now I’m a fucking eighteen-year-old who’s attracted to kids. I’m so scared because I could never hurt a child but I keep having these thoughts and they won’t go away and people keep telling me to just die but I don’t want to and I don’t know what to do.”

He curled in on himself and braced for the backlash, for Pierre to be angry, to yell at him, to hate Charles forever for getting him to pay a for a vacation only to reveal he’s the worst kind of person to exist.

“What?” was all Pierre said, disbelief apparent in his voice and the frown on his face. And that was all Charles needed to know that he was fucked, he genuinely fucked up this time and Pierre would never want to talk to him again.

“I know,” he groaned, panic tight in his chest. “I told you I had to keep this a secret. I should’ve… I should just die.”

He regretted the words the moment he said them, their impact heavy in the air. Pierre pulled him close and Charles felt very small, like a child being consoled by a parent. 

“Don’t say that. I don't know… I don't know what to say, but I love you. I will always love you no matter what.” Pierre tucked a strand of Charles’ hair behind his ear. “But I do have one question.”

“Yeah?”

“Does that mean you’re not really into me?” 

“No!” Charles blurted out. “God, no, I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about that. I’m non-exclusive. I’m very much into you. It’s a scary thought, though, that one day maybe I’ll wake up and be exclusively into kids. I don’t want that to happen. It terrifies me.”

“Charles, listen to me.” Pierre grabbed Charles’ shoulders and gently turned him so they were facing each other. “Thoughts do not equal actions. You’ve never hurt me and I know you’ll never hurt any… boys. I’m here for you, I want you to know that.”

Charles wanted to thank Pierre, to tell him he was the best friend and boyfriend he’d ever had, but his throat tightened and his vision went blurry with the intense rush of relief. He buried his face in the crook of Pierre’s neck, staining his shirt with tears. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Pierre said as he wrapped his arms tightly around Charles. “We’ll figure this out together. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> If this helps even one person I'll be very happy.
> 
> Here are some resources:  
> www.virped.org/resources.html  
> prostasia.org/  
> stopitnow.org/
> 
> Please remember to only tell someone about this sort of thing if you're 100% sure it's safe.


End file.
